


Sharing

by sdk



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Plugs, Incest, M/M, Masturbation, Pottercest, UST, brothercest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-09 01:16:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1139711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sdk/pseuds/sdk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes brothers steal. Sometimes brothers share.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sharing

**Author's Note:**

> Albus is seventeen when this fic takes place.

Al surprises James as he comes into the kitchen—James thought everyone was asleep—and he's red-faced and out of breath, like James gets after a long hard broom ride. His hair is sticking up at odd-angles, and James takes a moment to thank his father for not passing on that particular trait to him as well before he acknowledges his brother with a tip of his bottle. 

"Any more of those?" Al asks. He scratches his belly and his shirt stays hiked up for a moment, revealing that thin path of black wiry hair that haunts James' dreams at night. James swallows a mouthful of ale and looks away. 

"You're not old enough." 

"I'll be eighteen next month, you plonker." He pads over to the fridge, takes a glance, then looks over his shoulder and glares. 

"Oh yeah, this is the last one. Sorry."

"No you're not," Al says. He looks truly distressed and it distracts James long enough that he doesn't protest Al stealing a swallow from his bottle when he plops down on the chair by James' left. 

"What's this then?" 

"What's what?"

"This." James points at his face and makes a swirly motion with his finger. He's a little light, he has to admit. He already had two bottles before Al appeared in the doorway. "You're all red."

It shouldn't be possible, but Al's cheeks go even darker like a Maraschino cherry, and he ducks his head. 

"Just...can't find something." 

James reclaims his beer. He takes a swallow. He tries not to think about his brother's lips around the rim just seconds ago, but he can't help but shift in his chair.

"You haven't...you haven't been in my room, have you?" Al asks. It's the shyest James has seen Al since he was eleven and terrified he'd be sorted into Slytherin. 

James tries to remember that his brother is a Slytherin, but his mouth goes dry and he licks his lips.

"Why?" 

"Nothing...never mind. I'll keep looking." Al stands and leaves thankfully before James can stupidly offer his help. 

~

It's short, squat, with a thin tip and a wider middle ending in a flared round base that feels like a suction cup. Soft and firm, kind of like rubber. James thought it would look more like a dick. Thought it would be flesh colored. But it's a solid red with a ribbed texture. 

Red. James' favorite color. 

He'd meant to put it back after he found it. And then he'd gotten curious and just wanted to see what it was like. He promised himself he'd put it back the next day. It wasn't like he couldn't get his own. If Al could manage it, why couldn't he? 

He's had it a week now. 

Sometimes he doesn't use lube. Sometimes he just licks the end of this strange cone-like object that was inside his brother all those nights James pressed his ear to the wall and listened to Al moan. He pushes it in and fights through the burn, biting his lip until he tastes blood and his body molds itself around the intrusion, until the burn is just a distant afterthought and all James can feel is full. 

Sometimes he wears it to breakfast. Sometimes he shifts in his chair just as Al takes a bite of his eggs and James gets the timing just right and jolts of pleasure shoot through his body as Al swallows. 

And sometimes, like tonight, he wears it in the kitchen, drinking his father's beer, trying not to think about that glimpse of Al's stomach, or his lips wet with the one swallow of James' ale. 

~

James takes the stairs two at a time. He runs into his room and slams the door behind him. He doesn't turn on the lights, just strips and climbs into bed. He finds his wand on the bedside table and with a whispered spell, the thing inside him comes alive. 

He gets on his knees and bends over, one hand supporting his weight, the other flying to his cock. It barely takes a minute—barely takes a half-dozen strokes—and he's coming, thinking of his brother's lips, thinking of his brother's stomach, wishing this thing inside him was his brother instead of just his brother's toy. 

He collapses on the bed. He's too drained to care about the wet spot. His breath doesn't feel like his own, but it isn't until he feels the toy go quiet and slip out with a squish, that he realizes the breathing he hears belongs to someone else.

"I was looking in the wrong place the whole time," Al says quietly. James turns so fast in his bed he hits his elbow on the bedside table.

Al's lips twitch. He holds the toy in his hand like a trophy. It's slick, nearly dripping with lube. 

"Al—" James starts, but he doesn't really know what to say.

But Al smiles and the panic gripping James' chest eases ever so slightly. 

"Don't worry. I'll let you borrow it again tomorrow."


End file.
